Behind Closed Doors
by emeraldislegirl
Summary: Five-year-old RJ stumbles onto his parents at an inopportune moment. His behaviour changes and Michonne is summoned to his school to discuss the matter. NOTE: I don't own the TWD characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Behind Closed Doors**

**AN:** I had an idea for this story, so I decided to write it down but what happened instead was the first chapter. I trust you will like it.

* * *

"This is just a moment in time. Step aside and let it happen." (Brett Matthews, Firefly)

* * *

"Michonne Grimes," she answered almost immediately when she noticed the school's number on the call display.

"Hello, Mrs. Grimes. It's Mrs. Peletier. I'm the headmistress at R.J's school"

"Yes. Is something wrong with my son?" Michonne asked rather rushed in the interest of advancing the conversation. Her time was worth money and at that particular moment, they were minutes away from closing a huge multimillion-dollar merger.

"No. RJ's fine, but his teacher Mrs. Anderson brought an issue to my attention today. It's important that we meet to discuss it as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry, I'm heading into a meeting in fifteen minutes and I'm not sure, I'll be able to make it out in time to pick him up today. My husband's on pick up duty today, so he'll catch me up later."

"Actually, we'd prefer if he didn't. It's a rather delicate matter."

"Excuse me?" She responded not quite sure what she heard. The audacity of the pompous woman to insinuate that her husband, the fucking sheriff should not pick up his own son. She never liked Mrs. Peletier's vibe from the start, from the moment they were interviewing to find a potential school for RJ, the woman just rubbed her the wrong way. Rick never wanted RJ in a private school either, but he conceded because it made her happy and Alexandria Academy was a fine school. It was prestigious and she knew the right schools on one's resume opened doors later in life. That said, however, Mrs. Peletier always gave her the impression that notwithstanding the fact that she was a successful black woman and married to the sheriff of their town, their child still was not worthy of being there amongst children of the elite political types, doctors, lawyers, and professors.

"What are you trying to say to me?"

"Ma'am, it's a rather delicate matter. It's not something we should get into over the phone, but I would strongly recommend you make alternate arrangements to pick up RJ today."

"Oh. Okay, bye." There was a click ending the call on the other end of the line. Michonne looked at the phone confused. She didn't have much time to think, she had to find Aaron and fast. He was going to kill her, but what choice did she have.

Aaron was in his office. He stood as she entered. "Are you ready for this?" He asked with excitement bubbling in his voice.

"Aaron, sweetie something came up. You'll have to do it without me."

"What? We did this together you need to be here for this."

"I know, sweetie. But something's wrong at RJ's school. I have to go because they don't want Rick there."

"Oh shit, did he arrest one of their husband's or somebody's lover?"

"I don't know, but I'm about to find out. You got this… You can reach me by phone."

"On one condition."

"Yes?"

"I get the dirt as soon as you dust the floor with them."

"What dirt? This is about RJ. I'll have to find out from Rick who he's pissed off later."

"Either way, you'll have to tell me all about it."

"It'd be so much easier if you just enroll Gracie there. At least I'd have someone to go to these functions with because Rick hates them and they know it."

"Paul hates that type of school."

"Yeah, yeah… offer him a bribe." Michonne added and kissed his cheek and turned to leave.

**...**

**Michonne:** Babe, I got a call from the school. I'm on my way there. No need to pick up RJ.

Rick heard the buzz of his phone as he walked out of the shower. After he dressed, he retrieved the message. He didn't understand what was happening. First, their son was acting out of sorts and now his wife. Michonne knew he was off for the next few days. And he knew she had a big meeting at work, so he didn't understand why she was on her way to pick up RJ when she could have simply called him to do so.

**Rick:** Everythang okay?

Stopped at the light, she quickly responds.

**Michonne:** Yes. Almost there. I'll fill you in later.

Rick left with nothing else to do went to the kitchen to decide on what to prepare for supper.

Michonne arrived at the school thirty minutes later. She was seated in the outer office, waiting for her walk-in appointment. Somehow she couldn't escape the feeling as though she was on display in a glass bowl. A few teachers went in and out and some of the staff hung around making small talk with each other and texting.

Finally, Mrs. Anderson walked into the outer office. The blonde had changed her look. She went from the drabby hair with a lacklustre appeal and frumpy clothes to loose wavy curls framing her face, a blue silk blouse, a black form-fitting skirt with matching shoes. Ironically, that day Michonne wore almost the very same outfit. She wore her locs in a top bun, a black designer suit with a royal blue silk top, black pumps, and she carried a large designer handbag.

"Mrs. Grimes, I'm so happy you could make it," Jessie added and offered her hand to Michonne.

Michonne stood to meet the woman but her hand remained at her side. The last time she and Rick attended a parent-teacher function, the woman could not keep her eyes off her husband. She pretty much ignored her the whole meeting addressing Rick the whole time.

"Mrs. Anderson."

Just then, the pixie-cut silver-haired headmistress, Mrs. Peletier magically emerged from her hidden lair. "Mrs. Grimes," she added with a phony smile and an outstretched hand.

Michonne took her hand and gave it a firm handshake.

"Please follow me. This way, please."

Both Michonne and Jessie followed her down the hallway to the right to her office.

**….**

Seated behind the ornate desk on her throne, Carol Peletier as the nameplate on her desk stated was dressed in a relatively modest pantsuit, white blouse and pearl necklace and studs tried to look authoritative. She summoned many powerful parents to her office before, but she never had an issue dealing with them personally because the subject matter was always the same, a child or children behaving badly.

Truth be told, Carol Peletier never liked any of the parents. They were from different socio-economic classes ones she couldn't comprehend. She knew her place… she was the help. Her job was to mould young minds and that she did with great pride.

On this day, however, she was at a loss for words because she wasn't sure how to delve into a conversation that was about to bare a part of who she was to light. She loved her job, but that was it, a job. She has never had to reveal herself to the parents and or her employees except for the one who sat in the room right now.

Michonne was co-partner of a prestigious mergers and acquisitions firm in Washington. She didn't try, she looked authoritative.

Jessie, who was seated to her left was a timid and insignificant person and as such, she remained quiet waiting for her boss to lead the conversation.

After what seemed like an appropriate amount of time waiting for someone to say something. Michonne cleared her throat. "Mrs. Peletier, based on your call earlier, I was under the impression you needed to see me and whatever you had to say couldn't wait. what seems to be the problem?"

The woman who sat rigidly in her ergonomic chair with her hands clasped atop the heavy mahogany desk seemed to come alive once more. She cleared her throat and apologized. "Pardon me, There's really no easy way to say this Mrs. Grimes especially to a woman of your stature in our community, but…"

"I understand whatever it is must be difficult, but just say it."

"Well, Ma'am, for the past week Mrs. Anderson noticed that RJ hasn't been his usual out-going self. He's withdrawn from his friends. Initially, we thought maybe he was being bullied. When asked he said no, so we watched him closer just in case.."

"We've noticed a slight change ourselves. He's been a lot more clingy than usual, so I chalked it up to his father being away so much. He's had to put in more hours because of the flu bug going through the station."

"I understand, you both have very hectic schedules. But this morning when his father dropped him off, RJ was different."

"I don't understand, different how?"

Jessie piped into the conversation as she was the one who witnessed the exchange between father and son.

"He's usually very affectionate with both of you when you walk him to class and say goodbye. He wasn't that way this morning. In fact, he came straight to me and hugged me until such time his father gave up and left his backpack on his desk. He didn't even watch him leave."

Michonne looked at the woman as if for the first time. Her recapping of the situation didn't sit right with her. It didn't sound like her son at all. And Rick hadn't mentioned anything to her. She needed to talk with her son but also made a mental note to get a referral for a child therapist because whatever it was, was obviously something more serious than she first thought.

Michonne clutched her chest. "It doesn't sound like RJ at all. I'll speak with him and look into getting a therapist for him. I truly appreciate you bringing this to my attention."

"Ma'am, is everything okay at home?" Mrs. Peletier asked.

A puzzled look crossed Michonne's face. "Yes. There has been no upheaval if that's what you're insinuating. As I've said, the only change has been his father being away so much, but it will change he's home for the next few days."

"The reason why I asked… it's because RJ feels something's wrong at home…"

Michonne didn't like what was being implied. She felt judged the same as she did while being forced to sit in the exterior office while the staff came and went gawking at her.

Carol slid a sheet of paper across the dark ornate desk. It was a drawing. RJ's drawing. Michonne took the sheet of paper and looked at it. Her breath hitched at the image depicted before her.

"We know that your husband is a lawman. He's surrounded by violent types all the time. He's a good man but sometimes try as they might the stress of their jobs spills over into their personal lives. The sheriff would be no different."

Michonne looked up. She shook her head as the implications came clear "No. No. There's none of that in our house."

Jessie reached for Michonne's forearm and spoke, "Mrs. Grimes, it's okay. You need not be ashamed. We both know what it's all about... domestic abuse doesn't discriminate… my ex-husband is a renowned heart surgeon... Your husband arrested him two years ago when he broke my jaw. Imagine, I thought he was one of the good ones."

"And mine was a policeman too," Carol Peletier added. "If he's hurting you, he won't stop… he'll say he's sorry, but they'll be a next time and another and another after that… you'll feel trapped because his friends won't arrest him and the beatings will continue until he leaves you with no choice at all."

"There's help… we can help you and RJ, but it means getting you out of town before he figures out your plan. With him being the sheriff and all, we have to act quickly." Jessie added patting her forearm. "You're gonna be okay, I promise."

Michonne empathized with both women but added, "I'm sorry for whatever you've gone through. I truly am but this is something else," Michonned added pointing to the drawing before her.

Neither Carol nor Jessie seemed to understand. Both women continued their efforts to calm Michonne. "Yes, the denial is the first step but lucky for you we both recognized the signs. We weren't so lucky ourselves." Carol continued in a soft matronly tone as she stood beside Michonne and placed her hand on her shoulder and offered her a kleenex box for the tears she denied herself.

Michonne continued to study RJ's drawing. It was a picture of their bedroom from the point of view of the doorway. There was a brown figure in a reclining position on what appears to be a bed and in front of the bed was an angrily scratched red blob.

Michonne suddenly felt claustrophobic. "You don't understand, that's not a drawing of my husband beating me… he was fucking me!" She blurted out. "RJ wasn't home, he was next door with my father. He must have come home at some point and heard us." Michonne felt her temperature rise as her head fell forward from embarrassment. "We're trying for a second child… that afternoon, we both rushed home because I was ovulating and my parents picked up RJ from school." She offered as a means of explanation.

Both Jessie and Carol gulped and their complexion reddened from embarrassment because neither knew what to say after Michonne's disclosure.

"Now, if you'll both excuse me, I'll take my son home now."

_**Please #KeepRichonneAlive by leaving a review below.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Behind Closed Doors**

**AN:** Please note, I have no background in psychology, so please don't stone me. The information I found when researching this subject recommended using simple language. I trust that I've done that. This scenario is not something I have personally experienced, so I hope I did it justice. Regarding the red blob, in the drawing, it was RJ's anger at what represented his father.

* * *

Both Carol and Jessie looked at Michonne's retreating figure as she glided out the door and shook their heads, neither woman knew what to say about her revelation. They had both been married and had children and sex after their children were born but neither could recall traumatizing their children from having sex.

Both women had had occasions where an unlocked door allowed an unwanted visitor or two into their bedrooms at an inopportune moment, but neither was summoned to the principal's office because their children felt sad or afraid because of what they witnessed.

"Just what the hell kind of sex were those two having in that house to scare that poor child?" Jessie asked completely and utterly shocked at Michonne's insouciant remark.

"Did you see the way she looked at that drawing? The way her fingers traced over it… it was obscene… almost like she was reliving the experience right here in my damn office." Carol countered.

"The shameless hussy thinks a few sessions with a therapist is going to cure what the poor boy has seen. Does she not have a clue that their child is scarred for life?"

"I have a feeling there'll be more therapy bills in their future because if they succeeded in creating another life… another six years from now we'll be seeing another child in this office. Oh God," Carol sighed at the thought of having to go through a repeat performance of their meeting.

"The sheriff always seemed so respectable," Jessie answered. "I always wondered why he would marry such an uppity bitch… I guess we know why."

"Mrs. Anderson! You're still in my office."

"Pardon me, ma'am."

"It's clear that his officer friendly persona is for the public, but the sheriff's a downright freak behind closed doors. That said, however, Mrs. Anderson, don't think I haven't noticed how your demeanour changes whenever the sheriff drops off and picks up his son."

Jessie gasped. "Ma'am? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, relax, I too have had a lapsed moment or two… but knowing what I know now..." Carol fanned herself as her ordinary pale complexion turned a rosy colour. "Mercy!"

"Ma'am, you can't seriously believe what they are doing is okay?"

"Mrs. Anderson, you can't seriously believe that Father Gabriel doesn't get his freak on with his wife, Rosita. I can guarantee you that the smile on her face is not from the good book.

"What are we going to do?"

"As far as I'm concerned, the Grimes are two healthy, passionate consenting adults engaged in their matrimonial obligations to one another and little RJ Grimes will get over it. Plus, with his little bow-legged strut, it won't be long before he's traumatizing his own kids. There's no abuse, so let it rest.

**...**

"Mommy, can we go to Nana and Papi's?" RJ asked from the backseat of his mother's car.

"Daddy's home, baby. And he's making supper, your favourites too… nuggets, peas, carrots, with milk."

"I'm not hungry," he answered with a frown.

"Of course you are, mommy's hungry too. Tell you what, if you eat all of your supper, mommy will make us a super sundae, okay?"

"Can I put the whipped cream?"

"Of course you can, baby."

"Mommy, can I sleep with you tonight?"

"Sure, you can sleep with mommy and daddy," Michonne responded while watching his reaction in the rearview mirror.

RJ shook his head, no. "Mommy, do we have to sleep with daddy?"

"If we sleep in mommy's bed we do, baby."

"You can sleep in my bed, Mommy. I can share Mr. Snuggles with you."

"Alright, sweetie, but only for tonight, okay?"

Her son smiled, relieved. "Okay."

Just then, her phone rang. Michonne activated Bluetooth and took the call.

"Hey. How did it go?"

"Just a minute, babe."

"RJ, baby, put on your headphones and play on mommy's iPad." The young boy quickly did as he was told. He loved travelling with his mommy because he almost always got to play on her iPad.

Michonne took a deep breath before responding and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as she tried hard to focus her thoughts.

"Babe?" Rick called out as he paced around their spacious living room.

"I'm here," Michonne answered, but she had no idea where to begin. Guilt was slowly eating away at her knowing that their actions had caused their baby so much distress. She had missed all the signs thinking it wasn't serious when in fact it was.

She recalled the moment RJ's behaviour changed. After Rick returned to work, she took a nap, woke up and showered. She went next door to her parents to pick up their son, but he begged to stay with his grandparents, his request wasn't out of the ordinary. The next night and every night after that for almost two weeks Rick's schedule was turned upside down. They hardly saw one another, so he would sleep in another bedroom if he managed a split shift so as not to disrupt their sleep. Today was his first full day off in weeks.

"Michonne, is RJ okay?"

Rick's voice jarred her back to the present. A single tear slid down her cheek. She nodded yes, but he couldn't see her response because it wasn't a video chat.

"Michonne, what's wrong?" He asked concerned. "What happened?"

"We're going to therapy," she replied with tears silently streaming down her face.

"Therapy? What the hell for?" Rick asked confused feeling as though he woke up in an altered universe where nothing made sense.

"We traumatized our son… he's afraid of you… and the faculty and staff at his school are convinced that you're abusing me."

"Come again?" Rick asked certain that he missed something in between.

"I'll fill you in later if I continue this conversation I might lose my shit and run off the road." But before he could answer she was gone.

**…**

Rick opened the door before Michonne could because he had been monitoring them on the security system.

RJ took his mother's hand in his as they walked through the opened door. He didn't look at his father.

Rick kissed Michonne's cheek. He noticed her eyes were slightly red. She had been crying. He reached for his son, but RJ shied away from his touch. It was the second time that day his son shied away from him. He said nothing opting instead for an explanation from his wife, when none came he added, "Why don't y'all clean up, supper will be ready soon."

Suppertime was the quietest it had ever been in their household. Rick could not engage his son and no matter how hard Michonne tried to include Rick the few times RJ spoke, their son would have none of it. He clammed up.

**…**

While RJ got dressed for bed, Michonne gave Rick the Cliff's notes version of the scenario and the drawing.

Rick studied the drawing with a furrowed brow. Michonne turned it right side up for him. Still, he was unable to determine what he was looking at until Michonne walked him to the doorway of their bedroom and left the door ajar at the approximate angle reflected in the drawing.

Suddenly, he understood. "How?" He asked running his hand over his recent buzzed cut.

"I don't know. I'm going to speak to him in a bit."

"Don't you mean, we?"

"We will just not tonight, okay? Maybe tomorrow we can have a family fun day."

"You're gonna play hooky?"

"Mommy?"

"Our son needs us," she added kissing his cheek and left as her son summoned her.

**...**

Michonne got under the covers in RJ's bed and RJ snuggled into his mommy's arms. He offered her his favourite stuffed toy, a battered Koala bear which had been mended many times over. Mr. Snuggles had been around ever since RJ was a newborn. His grandparents brought it back from their trip down under and it went everywhere with the family. So RJ's offering was significant.

"Thank you, baby," Michonne whispered kissing both Mr. Snuggles and her son.

"How are you doing, baby?" Michonne asked running her fingers through her son's silky curls, it was a gesture that calmed him whenever he was upset. "You know you can tell mommy anything, right?" She made a point of not saying 'daddy' for the time being because she knew he was the perceived source of their son's distress.

RJ shook his head in agreement. He looked into his mommy's warm brown eyes and added, "Mommies are not supposed to cry."

Michonne bit the inside of her cheek to prevent her tears from falling.

"I'm not crying baby."

"You did. Daddy made you cry. Daddy's bad."

"Daddy didn't make mommy cry, baby and daddy is not a bad person."

"He did, Mommy. I saw him. I heard you, Mommy."

Michonne cringed at the thought of the images and sounds which were now seared into his young brain causing him such distress.

"What you saw and heard… you know sometimes you play cops and robbers with papi and daddy?" RJ nods his head. "Sometimes when you are the policeman you scream at them and have to arrest daddy and papi because they are the bad guys, but it's not real. Sometimes mommy's and daddy's like to play make-believe games too. It's all pretend. That's what you saw. Daddy didn't hurt me."

"Does it mean we don't have to go away?"

"Yes. We don't have to go away."

"You're not afraid of daddy?"

"No, I'm not afraid of daddy and neither should you."

"I was mean to daddy. Do you think he still likes me?"

"Daddy loves you, but it makes him feel bad because you're afraid of him and you thought he was hurting me. Daddy's sad."

"I'm sorry, Mommy, I don't want daddy to be sad," RJ added with remorse. "Can we go see him?"

"Daddy's sleeping, baby" Michonne replied and caressed his tear-stained cheek. "Don't cry, baby… tell you what, tomorrow, you can help mommy make breakfast and we'll serve it to daddy in bed. Would you like that?"

RJ acknowledged his agreement with a nod of his head. "Good. It will make you and daddy feel better."

**…**

Early that morning, Michonne snuck into their room and locked the door behind her. She roused her sleeping husband whose night didn't exactly go according to plan and led him to the bathroom. There was a pressing need after a two-week drought. Their smouldering hunger exploded in hot stolen kisses and a quickie with her pressed against the steamy shower door with the water on full blast and Rick's hand partially covering her open mouth as the two climaxed.

Later that morning as Rick lay in bed, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

"Come in," he instructed.

RJ hesitated and looked at his mommy before opening.

"It's okay… go ahead, baby, open it."

"Hey!

Relieved to see that his father wasn't upset with him, RJ climbed onto the bed and gave him a hug.

"Hey, son, daddy needed that." Rick smiled and tousled his hair.

"We thought we'd make you breakfast," Michonne announced allowing him to sit up and set the tray before him. On it was a coffee for him and a glass of juice for RJ, two plates of food one with a serving huge enough for two people and a smaller plate with RJ's favourite foods and two hot rod cars.

"RJ, why does daddy have so much food?"

"Because you're supposed to share with mommy, silly," he chuckled.

"Mommy, when do I get ready for school?"

"We're not going to school or work today. It's a family fun day!

"Yippee!"

RJ sounds of glee reminded her that she still had to notify the school of his absence and give Aaron a heads up she wouldn't be in. Michonne quickly sent a text to the school and to Aaron.

**Michonne:** Family emergency still in progress.

**Aaron:** Seriously? Staying home to fuck your husband is not a family emergency, it's a good thing you're the boss. About that scoop, I'm still waiting… inquiring minds and all.

**Michonne:** You have no idea how wrong you are. It's a scoop that's much better delivered in person.

**Aaron:** It's that good, eh?

**Michonne: **I'm still trying to find the right words. Family Fun Day. Over and Out!

**Aaron:** Damn, it must be good. I hate you.

_**Please #KeepRichonneAlive by leaving a review below. **_


	3. Chapter 3

**Behind Closed Doors**

* * *

**AN:** _"I have a dream that one day my four little children will live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character." Dr. Martin Luther King Jr._

* * *

Rick loaded the last of their belongings into the trunk of his vehicle. "RJ, get your baseball mitt and tell mommy the car's ready," he instructed his son who was busy steering his remote police cruiser around the circular driveway.

"Okay, Daddy," RJ replied, and dashed across the lawn towards his grandparents' house.

"Son, where are you going?" Rick slammed the trunk shut and called after RJ's backpacked retreating figure puzzled as to why his son was on his way next door. His attention shifted, however, when he heard the front door open and closed behind him when he turned and saw Michonne exiting their front door. She took his breath away.

Michonne wore a long flowing yellow printed high waisted sundress with side cutouts and the halter top crisscrossed over the bodice exposing her ample cleavage.

Rick felt his cock twitched in his jeans and moistened his lip. He momentarily considered calling his in-laws to ask them to watch over RJ for another couple hours because their early morning tryst had barely taken the edge off a two-week drought.

"Are we ready," Michonne asked, kissing her husband's cheek seemingly unaware of her effect on him.

Rick inhaled the heady scent of her perfume. "You—you look amazing," he cleared his throat and stuttered, once his tongue untied and he was able to form words acknowledging her natural beauty as his eyes drank in every inch of his very sexy wife leaving him utterly intoxicated.

"Thank you," she replied with a flirtatious smile. Michonne blinked and swallowed, unable to take the heat radiating between them. She moistened her lip and put on her sunglasses as a means of distraction fearing they'd disappoint their son if their family day was ruined before it began.

Michonne glanced in the vehicle, "Where's the little man?" she asked.

"Next door."

"Oh?" she answered searching for an explanation.

"I thought this was going to be a family bonding weekend—" Rick countered, but his words fell away as his eyes continued to appraise the exquisitely beautiful woman before him.

"It is. Why?"

"How am I supposed to keep my hands off you when you look this good?" he added, drinking her in and moistening his lip.

Michonne moistened her lip once more and broke his suggestive stare.

"I have faith in you that we can be PG when needed. We've done it before. Unless, of course, she paused for an instant, "you want to invite my folks to come out with us."

He stepped closer effectively pinning her body between the car and his with his hands on either side of her waist. He lowered his head to hers and they stood there forehead to forehead. He inhaled her scent and relaxed.

"It's a good thing our son will be worn out later, because you and me, we have some bonding to do ourselves," he added moistening his lips. "It's been a while since I've had my favourite meal," he added in a dangerous whisper.

Michonne swallowed hard. She looked up into a sea of royal azure. She inhaled his musk and was lost in the moment. She felt his growing need against her. She inhaled deeply. She too was in need after what seemed like an eternity of him being away, her panties were already ruined. The past few weeks were the longest they had been apart physically since the mandatory waiting period after RJ was born.

Rick seemed to have sensed her thoughts when his right hand released her waist and glided lazily between their bodies searching for confirmation and found evidence of her desire.

Michonne moaned softly as her nipples hardened and her treacherous body gave into her husband's torturous touch. She felt the warmth of her juices between her legs as his hard cock pulsed against its confinement and nudged against her abdomen.

Suddenly out of the blue came a little voice, "Daddy, I found it," RJ cried with glee showing off his left gloved hand to his father.

It was almost as though Michonne's earlier thought had caused their son to materialize. It was going to be a very long drive out to the lake house. She groaned.

Rick pulled back a little, turned his head slightly to address his son without removing his hand from its pressure point.

"Good, son. Put it in the back seat, then put your car and the remote away and we'll be off."

"Okay," RJ added and ran off to do as he was instructed, eager to be on their way.

Michonne cleared her throat and squeezed her thighs together suddenly remembering the purpose of their impromptu weekend.

"Hey? I wasn't done with you yet," Ricked added, following his wife's cue, he reluctantly stepped away and shamelessly brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled her scent.

Michonne swallowed hard and inhaled deeply, lifted her head, straightened her shoulders, adjusted her dress and turned slightly away. After regaining her composure, she added, "I think we are—unless we want our son in therapy for the rest of his natural life."

Rick moistened his lips, but the storm in his now sapphire eyes held a silent promise.

**…**

Michonne arranged the blanket under the big oak tree next to the icebox with their food while Rick and RJ played a game of hide and seek in the nearby bushes.

"Ready?" Rick asked.

"Yeah," RJ replied, looking at his mommy who sat on the blanket with her index finger against her lips. RJ mimicked his mommy but a giggle escaped his lips.

Rick stalked his way through the nearby hedge where RJ last hid when he heard his son's giggle coming from south of his position, which meant RJ was in close proximity to his mother, so he changed direction and quietly crept up behind his son lifted him into the air and kissed his cheek.

After his capture, RJ's giggles erupted into laughter once more.

"No fair, Daddy. You always win."

"That's because you're like mommy. You're never quiet, son," he added and winked at his wife.

"Lunch!" Michonne called as a means of a truce giving both her boys a much-deserved break.

Rick released RJ who ran to his mommy. "Yippee!" RJ cried winded and hugged his mommy.

"Let's wash up and eat."

"Okay."

**…**

The family sat on the blanket and prepared to eat when Rick's phone buzzed.

Michonne gave him the evil eye as she passed RJ his plate with a ham and cheese sandwich, macaroni salad, tomatoes and cucumbers.

Despite the timing, however, she knew that being sheriff meant Rick had to take the call.

Rick stood and walked away allowing himself some privacy to respond. "Yeah? Are you sure 'bout that? No, that's fine I'll read it later. Thanks, Eugene," he added ending the call and returned to his family.

"Everything, okay?" Michonne asked, passing Rick his plate.

He took a hold of the baguette and bit into it. "Yeah. Hmmm, you added pesto?" he asked his eyes hooded as he savoured the textures and flavours of the basil, garlic, oil, grated cheese and pinenuts together with the roasted tomatoes, red peppers, the creamy burrata cheese and the thinly sliced salami on the crusty baguette.

"I did," she confirmed with a smile at his ability to detect the subtle changes she's made to recipes to keep things new and passed both Rick and RJ a bottle of water.

**...**

"No, Mommy, not like that, lemme show you," RJ critiqued his mother's form as she stood poorly poised to strike the ball.

Rick stood at the pitcher's mound and patiently smiled at the two most important people in the world to him.

RJ took Michonne's place and demonstrated the proper stance to his mother. He stood with his feet apart while holding his little bat near the tip with both hands near the base so that his fists lined up just like his daddy taught him. He held his bat up over his shoulder waiting for his father to pitch the ball and swung his bat and striking the ball. "Like that, Mommy," he added, dropped his bat and ran.

Michonne smiled like a proud mama knowing her baby and his dad were going to be okay after all.

"Good hit, RJ," Rick added proudly and ran to recover the ball.

Meanwhile, Michonne who had no particular baseball related skills picked up the adult bat and tried her best to recreate the stance and form her little man previously demonstrated, but was restricted in her long flowing sundress. She dropped the bat and hitched her dress above her knees and tied a knot on the left side to allow leg room to move freely.

Her actions earned her a wolf whistle from the horny pitcher.

"If you'd like, I can give you a hand with that," came the offer from the pitcher's mound. Her husband's eyes were now hidden behind his sunglasses but from the moistening of his bottom lip, the innuendo was clear.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"Not as much as I'd like," he smirked, "don't say I never offered you an out."

"Some offer," she added, striking the ball he pitched.

"Yeah, Mommy," RJ ran to his mommy and gave her a hug.

"Thank you, baby."

After another thirty minutes of playtime, the family gathered their belongings, packed up their vehicle and drove the short distance to their lake house on the banks of Lake Barcroft.

**...**

Later that night, in their bedroom, Michonne dressed in a champagne coloured silk top and pj shorts set finished applying lotion to her shapely legs and crawled into bed and waited for her husband who was reading their son a bedtime story.

"Mommy," RJ cried, racing into his parent's room and climbed onto the bed next to his mother.

"What is it, baby?" Michonne asked her teary-eyed tired little man as Rick appeared in the doorway shrugging his shoulders and splaying his hands wide open; his eyes pleading with her to solve the problem.

Michonne furrowed her brow in response and hugged an upset RJ.

"Where is he, Mommy?"

"Who, baby?"

"Mr. Snuggles."

"Did you check the car," Michonne asked Rick, who silently turned and left on his quest.

RJ fretted. Her son was tired and cranky. Michonne rubbed RJ's back to comfort him. _It couldn't be_, she thought, the one thing that would make it a perfect day, appeared to be missing. "Shhhh, baby, don't get upset, daddy will find it."

Moments later Rick returned empty-handed. "It's not in the car nor his backpack."

Upon hearing his father's announcement, RJ's little body shook from his sobs.

"It's okay, baby, you can sleep with mommy and daddy tonight," Michonne offered as a means to appease the little man's distress.

Moments later, a starved Rick got into bed next to his disappointed son. Rick hugged and kissed his son and wife. The family wished each other a good night bringing an end to their family day.

_**Please #KeepRichonneAlive by leaving a review below.**_


End file.
